e navy?

POND

Two weeks.

HALE

I'm glad I found you here--I might have had some difficulty in
convincing a stranger that I was really an officer in the Continental
army.

POND

That's true enough. You look--well--more like a country schoolmaster
than anything else.

HALE

That's what I hope to pass for.

POND

How long will you be on Long Island?

HALE

I shall try to be through my business in a week. I wonder if you would
meet me at the same place you are going to leave me--say, a week from
tonight?

POND

I'll send a small boat ashore for you, soon after dark a week from
tonight.

HALE

Good! I'll be there--unless--

POND

Yes?

HALE

Unless I am unexpectedly detained.

POND

Oh, sir--we won't even think of that!

ANNOUNCER

Our next scene is several days later, at the little shop of the
shoemaker, Simon Carter, in Jamaica. Simon is sitting on his stool,
hammering away at a half-finished boot, when he hears a knock at his
door. [_knock_]

SIMON

Come in, come in, the door ain't locked! Come on in!

HALE

Is this the shop of Simon Carter, the shoemaker?

SIMON

It is, no less!

HALE

Are you at liberty today--at liberty to do a little work for me?

SIMON

Close the door!

HALE

There. [_door closes_]

SIMON [_low_]

Now--sir--I'll do what I can fer ye--in the cause of liberty. What is
it?

HALE [_low_]

Have you any information for the General?

SIMON

Aye--a plenty!

HALE

Can you give it to me?

SIMON

It's all written out--careful.

HALE

Good! Give it to me.

SIMON

Jest a minute. Don't them boots of yours need new soles?

HALE

Why, I don't know. I think they'll do.

SIMON

Never! Ye must have new soles!

HALE

Why?

SIMON

See here? This here sole?

HALE

Yes?

SIMON

Well, listen--come close--

HALE

Yes?

SIMON

The sole is split--the notes are inside it!

HALE

Good! That's an excellent idea!

SIMON

Slickest thing ye ever see. And it's my own idea!

HALE

I wonder if you could hide some notes I've gathered in the same way?

SIMON

O' course I could. I'll resole both boots. Give me yer notes.

HALE

Here they are. [_rattle of paper_]

SIMON

Pshaw, now--what kind o' writin' is this?

HALE

It's Latin. I thought if they were discovered on me--

SIMON

O' course--no soldier--that is, no redcoat could read that furrin
writin'. Well, I'll put it where they'll never find it.